Twenty Three Cannons
by AlecC57
Summary: "So it was decreed that, each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness." There have been four Victors from District 12: Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch. Who's the other?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Every year, two children between the ages of twelve and eighteen are reaped from each of the twelve districts that form our nation of Panem. These children are called Tributes. The twenty-four Tributes are then placed in an outdoor arena, where they are forced to fight to the death until a lone Victor remains. This is known as the Hunger Games.

Today is the reaping. Two more children from our district are being sent off to the capitol for a week or two, before they're placed in an arena and killed off in the initial bloodbath, like every other year.

This is the ninth year of the games, and our district is yet to have a Victor. We've come close though. In the first few years, the games were fair, and our tributes did rather well. One of them even made it to the final two, back in the third games. He was brutally murdered by a large boy from District 2.

After those games, District 2 decided they wanted more than just one Victor, so they set up an academy, for children who wanted to train for the Games. Eventually District 1 caught on, and District 4 wasn't too far behind.

Even though training for the Games is illegal, the Capitol turned a blind eye to Districts 1, 2 and 4. To them, it just makes the Games more interesting, having kids who actually _want_ to kill.

Just two years ago, in the seventh Games, Districts 1 and 2 had Tributes that volunteered for the games. All of them were either 17 or 18 years old, and looked like they'd been training for a few years. District 4 had one volunteer that year.

Those Games, were the first to have a large alliance that were hunting the Tributes throughout the Games. While they hunted the tributes, a tribute from an outer district said to the pack that they 'kill children as their career.' Of course, this didn't end well for the tribute that said this, but we now have a name for the Tributes from 1, 2 and 4 who Volunteer each year. Careers.

The careers were the only tributes left after ten days in the arena. They clearly hadn't through their plan through, and forgot that once every other Tribute is dead, they're going to have to kill one another until there's a Victor.

After a bloody battle, lasting well over two hours, the boy from 4 was crowned the Victor.

My family is sitting around the small table where we have our meals. No-one is talking, we are a lot more quiet than usual. My mother is usually in a cheery mood, making sure we look great for school, and always trying to feed us a decent amount before we head off to school.

We're a family from the seam, yes, but my father works in the mines. His pay is not much, but it's enough to feed us and keep all of us happy and reasonably healthy. My younger brother, Kale, is only eleven. He's still a whole year away from being eligible for the reaping, which I'm grateful for.

This is my second last year i'll be eligible for the reaping. My name will be in the reaping ball 30 times. I took tesserae once this year, for each of my family members. In return I was given oil and grain, which has lasted us a long time.

Mother places a slice of bread in front of me on a small silver tray. I'm surprised to see bread. Our meals usually consist of soups with vegetables, and occasionally meat, but never fresh bread.

"Is this real - the bread I mean?" I question.

"Of course it is, dear." My mother says, in a sad tone. She's clearly upset with the reaping today. "I went to Mellarks Bakery early this morning, and Mr. Mellark gave it to me for a quarter of the price!" Her tone changes to a slightly happier one as she says this.

"That was very generous of them, dear. I'll have to stop by later a thank them." My father says, before taking another bite of his bread.

Upon seeing him do this, I do the same. I bring the bread close to my face, and the aroma swirls to my nostrils. The bread is still warm in my hands. I break a piece off and place it in my mouth. It's still soft on the inside and the crust is not too hard.

I eat slowly, resisting the urge to devour the whole slice in no more than three bites. Kale doesn't fare so well, and his slice is gone within minutes.

He watches me eat. His grey eyes, watching my every move, and his scruffy dark brown hair dangles over the side of his face, and just above his eyebrows. He resembles me from when i was his age. Gary eyes, typical from the seam, Dark brown hair, and olive skin.

I eventually give in to his pleading eyes, and hand him the last bite of my precious slice of bread. He takes it out of my hand hesitantly, surprised by my gesture. He brings it to his nose, sniffs it deeply, before shoving it in his mouth, and barely chewing it.

I shake my head and smile towards the wooden floor chuckling to myself. "You're a funny kid, ya know that, Kale."

He looks up at me and nods, "I couldn't help myself! I take after you, Darren." he says with a smile, "Except i'm better looking!" At this the whole family is laughing, even mother. The laughs quickly fade as we remember what today is.

My mother asks me to go to my room, to bathe and change into my reaping clothes. When i get to the door, she places a hand on my shoulder. I turn to face her. Her eyes a glimmering from the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. "You are a good boy, you know that, don't you Darren?"

I turn my gaze to the floor once again. "Thanks, mother." I say, with a sad smile. I Look back to her, she's smiling too, and a tear slides down her cheek. I Raise my hand towards her cheeck, wiping the tear with my thumb. She gives me another sad smile. "Don't worry 'bout today, i'll be fine. Just like every other year. It's okay."

"I - I sure hope so, Darling."

"Mother, please don't call me that, i'm seventeen now!" I say, with another smile. I'm really smiling a lot for someone who's about to attend a reaping.

"Sorry darli- I mean, Darren." I wrap my arms around her tightly, and she kisses the top of my head lightly. "Now bathe and get changed, you stink!" I chuckle once again and she does too, before turning away back to the kitchen.

I get into the small tub in our bathroom. A bathroom is considered a luxury in District 12, well, for a family in the seam that is.

I use a jug to scoop the water from the tub and poor it over my body, using my other hand to scrub my body with the old sponge we have. I finish bathing after arrownd fifteen minutes.

I change into a sky blue shirt collard, and tan coloured shorts. Making sure to tuck my shirt in. Looking good for the Capitol.

I walk out the kitchen, where my family is waiting to leave.

"You look so handsome, Darren!" My mother says with a touch of sadness in her voice.

"He takes after me, dear." My father says, chucking to himself after winking at my mother. She kisses him on the cheek and puts her hand in his.

We walk out of the house. Mother and father are standing behind me while I hold Kales hand. My father has his hand rested on my right shoulder as we walk through town.

Many of the families are walking together, some crying and most staying quiet. District 12 is a dark place on reaping day.

When we reach the square, families are huddles together and saying their final goodbyes and wishing good luck to their children.

My father claps me on the back and scruffs my hair playfully with his hand. "See you after, son." He says in the cheeriest tone he can muster.

I turn and nod my head, forcing a smile. he returns the gesture, before waving his hand in a manner that says 'Off you go' I nod once more before making my way towards he checkin area.

I reach the check in area where the boys are signing in. I line up for a few minutes before i'm at the front of the line, where a lady in a peacekeepers uniform grabs my arm. She brings a needle to my finger and press it down. I wince as it pieces my skin slightly and warm blood trickles down these of my finger.

She pressed my finger down on a piece of paper, and it makes a finger print out of my blood. She waves a scanning device over it, and my name flashes up on the screen. She then waves her hand for me to leave and calls for the next person.

I walk slowly down the centre of the square, looking at the faces of the other children who are roped off into their age categories, many of them quivering with fear, and girls holding each others hands for dear life.

I reach the seventeen year olds section, it's almost full. I squeeze my way through some of the guys. Most of them move out of the way for me, others just grunt and I have to push my way past them.

There's roughly six or seven guys to my right before i'd reach the rope. I Talk to some of the guys around me, murmuring my good luck and shaking their hands, before the mayor makes his way towards the microphone.

He says his speech about the dark days, the twelve districts, the thirteenth obliterated, the Capitols generosity and forgiveness, and then the reason we have the Hunger Games. many of the guys around me shuffle and wince at his words and speech about the Games.

The mayor makes his way back to his seat after introducing our District escort, Sabrina. She's wearing typical Capitol clothing, everything is yellow. Her dress, her high heels, her cloves, her wig, her skin is tinted yellow. I wouldn't be surprised if her eyes had yellow contacts! She's wearing what appears to be shoulder pads too.

"Welcome, to the reaping of the Ninth Annual Hunger Games!" Her voice is high and cheery, she's excited about the reaping, no most likely thinks it's an honour to go to the games! "It's time for me to select one courageous young man and women, to represent District Twelve in this years Hunger Games! May the _odds_ be _ever_ in your favour!"

She waddles over towards the girls reaping ball, filled with thousands of names and white slips paper. She removes the glove from her right hand and reaches into the ball. He hand dances of the slips of paper for a few seconds, before she takes a slip from the very top. _all of that, to take a slip off the top._

Sabrina waddles back over to the microphone and begins to unfold the slip of paper. The girls side of the square come eerily silent. Sabrina takes a deep bret, before reading the name.

"Mazie Pitsworth!" Movement comes from the girls thirteen year olds section. Some murmurs come from the crowd. No one likes it when a twelve or thirteen year old are reaped. We know they don't stand a chance. "Come on up, dear!"

A small girl makes her way to the stage, her hands are clenched into fists and her arms are stiffened by her side. She takes short and slow steps. Thousands of eyes are trained on her. She has blond hair, that in two pony tails sprouting from each side of her head, she has blue eyes, the same colour as the dress she's wearing.

She's definitely are merchant, her name was probably in the raping ball twice, I Doubt she had to take any tesserae.

Mazie stands on the stage, facing the crowd. She isn't crying, which usually they do.

"Now to choose our male Tribute from District Twelve!"

She makes her way to the boys reaping ball, and dives her hand towards the bottom quickly, before ripping it out and almost running back to the microphone. She unfolds the slip of paper, and I swear every guy around me holds their breath. One of us is about to be chosen.

"Darren Hitsbrow!"

I feel the blood drain from my face. My feet stay firmly planted on the ground like a statue, and it feels as if my heart is threatening to leap out my chest.

The boys around me are staring at me, relief on their faces that it wasn't them. They slowly back away from me, like I have an infectious disease. They create a clear path to the stage. Peacekeepers surround me because I haven't moved yet.

Two peacekeepers grab an arm each, and I remember this is being televised across the entire nation. I rip my hands from their grip and clench my hands into fists, making my knuckles turn white as snow.

I stride towards the stage, staying as confident as a I can. I keep my face expressionless, my lips pressed inn a firm line. I lift my legs up the steps of the stage, they feel ten times heavier than usual.

I finally reach the centre of the stage, where Mazie stands, still facing the crowd, looking strong for someone who was just called their death.

"A round of applause for this years Tributes of District Twelve!" Sabrina claps, as the crowd stares at us with pity, and no applause. "Shake hands, you two."

I turn to Mazie, her blue eyes are shining with the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks, like my mother this morning. I put my hand out, and she hesitantly reaches for it. I smile, the best I can, even though it's probably a wonky smile, but it's the best I can do. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, and relief floods throughout her face.

I gaze out to the crowd once more. Their faces are stone cold, mostly pity. Some of the parents are shaking their heads, eyes on the ground. The reactions they display show exactly what they're thinking.

We're just two more kids from District 12, who aren't coming home.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

The justice building is the most beautiful and breathtaking place i've ever been in. Not that i've really been anywhere other than my house in the seem, and occasionally the bakery. If I wasn't reaped this year, that's exactly where i'd be. The bakery. Buying our post-reaping meal, celebrating another year with my family.

Even though the room i'm in is extravagant, I don't feel _extravagant._ This room is the last place in District 12 i'll be in. Such a nice room, for such a sad moment. The leather couches, the fire place with brick walls, the chandler that hangs from the roof, the shiny wooden floors.

I stare at the tall wooden doors that are before me. I can hear muffled voices coming from the other side. The door swings open and i'm instantly engulfed by my family.

I stand up as mother clings onto me for dear life. Kale is gripping my so tightly that think the blood has stopped flowing in the lower half of my body. My fathers eyes are glazed over, from the tears that are so very close to streaming down his face.

Mother is the first to speak. "My darling, you didn't deserve this," she sobs into my shoulder and I cling her tightly "Of all people, not you."

"I guess the odds weren't in my favour, huh?" My mother smiles sadly, and her grey eyes meet mine, red rimmed and teary.

She runs her hand softly over my right cheek, her cold and fragile hands are cold against my skin.

I squat slightly, to get my head inline with Kales. His eyes are watery and red rimmed like mothers. His voice is pitchy and he struggles to get any words to escape his trembling lips. "W-what if you die, Darren?"

The corners of my lips tilt upwards into a small smile. "I won't. I'll come home in a few weeks and we'll be rich! I can buy you anything you want for the rest of your life, how does that sound?" I question him, and his frown transforms into a large smile, the only smile from him all day.

"That sounds awesome, Darren!" It's as if he's forgotten where i'm going all of a sudden.

I turn to my father, who has yet to let a tear escape his eyes. I lunge into him, burying my face into his chest, sobbing quietly and freely. His hand holds the back of my head gently as he softly rubs the back of my head.

"You're coming home, Darren, don't believe any different." He says, his voice still stern.

"Dad, we haven't had a victor in nine years," I say, almost yelling. "What makes you think me, of all people, will come home?" My voice is louder, but not steady.

"You're a fighter, Darren," My fathers voice is stern and steady. "Remember all the time we've spent, preparing you to enter the mines in a year from now? You've been swinging the pickaxe I took from the mines since you were fourteen!" He places his hand on my shoulder, his grey eyes staring directly into mine.

I look at him, feeling the anger boiling inside of me. "Do you think this is a joke, dad?" I question him, yet his face remains an impassive mask, "What the hell is a _pickaxe is_ going to do in an arena full of children trying to kill each other?" I chuckle humorously, "I don't even think you can get a pickaxe! Unless by some miracle I get sponsors _without_ a mentor!"

We stand in silence for a moment, before the doors swing open once again, and a man in a white peacekeeper uniform enters the room and strides towards my family.

"That's time." The mans voice is deep and forceful. He drags my family out of the room before I get the chance for one final goodbye.

"See you soon son! Get your hand on an Axe!" The door slams shut, and my fathers voice is cut off slightly.

I think about the final words from my father. _Get your hands on an axe._ I guess an axe is would be similar to using a pickaxe, just different swinging technique. Other than that, the weight would be roughly the same. I have become used to the weight of a pickaxe, swinging the one dad stole from the mines a few years back.

Using the pick in my spare time has built up the muscle in my shoulders and back considerably over the past few years. Even though i'm not extremely well fed, i'm better fed than many of the guys in my class at school, and much more muscular than most, if not all of the am kids. I'm sure i'd be stronger than some of those merchant guys too, who don't do a lot of physical activity.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. Before I can respond, it opens and two peacekeepers have come escort me to the vehicle that will take me, along with Mazie and our escort, Sabrina, to the train station, where out journey to the Capitol will begin.

—-

The car i'm in, is the first i've ever been in. We drive along the dirt path that leads us to the train station. The crowd has died down outside, yet many families are lined up along the side of the road. They aren't waving or saying anything. They stand, their hands by their side, or clinging onto their family members that surround them. Their faces are impassive, and their eyes are trained on the two children, along with their escort, who sit inside a vehicle that brings them closer to their death every second.

The drive doesn't take long. No more than five minutes, but I cherished ever moment as if it was my last. They are my last, really.

We arrive at the platform, greeted not by our families and friends, but by cameras that flash in our face, and microphones shoved in front of us. Sabrina smiles and waves to the cameras, while Mazie and I stand with expressionless faces. Probably not too good for sponsors.

We spend five more minutes on the train station platform before Sabrina ushers us through the sliding doors on the side of the train.

A soon as we enter, multiple aromas flood the air and enter my nostrils. I can smell fresh pastry, sweet desserts, soups, breads, fruit. Any food I've ever imagined. I can smell it.

We enter a large carriage, even more beautiful than the room in the justice building where I said my goodbyes. This has plush sofas, long dining tables, silver platters of food, fine glasses, even cutlery, something I've never had the opportunity to use.

I look over to Mazie, whose sky blue eyes are wide in excitement and anticipation. Even for a merchant girl, i'm sure she's never seen or had anything like this in her thirteen years of life.

Sabrina's voice cuts through our thoughts and both Mazie and I jump at the sound of her high pitched voice.

" _Everything_ here is for you. I know it's only for a short time, but while we're here, you should enjoy it!" Before she can finish speaking, Mazie and I are at the long table, filling our silver plates with stack of food, eating every second thing we grab.

I fill my plate until there's not room for a single thing, and dig in.

At first, I try and use the cutlery that has been neatly set out and folded nicely into a napkin. Mazie does the same, and she uses them with much more confidence that I do. I'm assuming she uses - _used_ them at her home on a regular basis. We couldn't afford such things.

After five minutes, I give up and use my hands. My fingers are covered in sauces and drums when I'm finished devouring what was on my plate. Mazie looks at me for a split second, confusion spread across her face. Her expression quickly changes to a big smile, and she laughs, loud and clear. I'm glad I could make her happy, before she comes back to reality, and remembers where we are going, and why.

Sabrina has a very different opinion on me using my hands. She give me a lecture about table manners, telling me how the people in the capitol would be appalled with my behaviour. She even teaches me ho to use cutlery, and I listen. But just to annoy her, I wipe my hands on the table cloth. The face she makes is hilarious, I bite my tongue to hold back the lung that is climbing my throat. I glance over at Mazie to see she's doing the same.

no more than fifteen minutes after finishing the food I had devoured, I vomit it back up. Thankfully making it to my room in time. I guess my stomach isn't used to me having so much food, especially food that is this rich. I make note, not to eat as much orgs fast next time we have a meal.

The rooms Mazie and I have been given on the train are three times larger the my room at home in the seam. My bed here has silky blankets and is large enough to fit my entire family. The cupboards are filled with enough clothes to wear a different outfit every day of the month and still have not worn everything.

I eventually discover that my room has a shower and my own private bathroom. A shower is something even merchant families think is a luxury. Very few homes in District 12 have one.

After countless tries of working out how to use the different buttons in the shower, I eventually work it out. Sort of. With a few screams from the water being too hot, too cold or even too powerful. I'm finished, with the simple press of a button drying me off. I'm sure everyone on this train could hear my yelps after I set the water to a temperature that was for too cold for my liking.

I change into some comfortable pants and a silky shirt, which feels extremely nice against my skin. After a few minutes, Sabrina knocks on my door, telling me to come out to watch a recap of the readings.

The point of us watching the reapings from the other eleven Districts, is to get an idea of who we will be facing in the arena. Determining who the biggest threats will be, and which Tributes won't be much of a threat in the arena.

We each take a seat on the couch in front of the screen. Mazie on the left, me on the right, and Sabrina sits on between us.

The tributes from District 1 are the first to be shown. Both of them have blond hair and green eyes. The boy is tall, no less than six foot. He has broad shoulders and he's extremely muscular. The girl is shorter than him, but not by much. When she volunteers, she shoves another girl to the floor to beat her to the stage, and grins when she stands in the sincere facing the cheering crowd.

The pair from Two look just as strong as the pair from One. Both of them are volunteers, eager to get the games started. The boy has blond hair, the same as the boy from one, yet his eyes are blue. His build is the same as the boy from One, yet he is slightly taller.

The girl from two has hair that almost looks black. She's taller and more muscular than the girl from One. Her eyes are a dark shade of brown, and the way she stares into the camera scares me just watching her.

The pair from Three do not look threatening at all. Both sixteen years old, skinny, yet average in height. They defiantly don't look ready for any physical challenges, but I'm sure they'll be the smartest tributes in the arena.

The pair from Four are both extremely attractive. Both with perfectly tanned skin, bronze coloured hair and emerald coloured eyes. Their teeth are the whitest I have ever seen, and they looks though they may be I doubt they are.

Both of them are smaller than the Tributes from 1 and 2, and neither of them are volunteers, but I'm sure they'll join their pack.

No Tributes really stand out until District 7 is on the screen. Both of the Tributes are stocky and lean. They have clearly been using axes for a decent amount of time, and they aren't to be over looked.

The boy from Nine is tall and looks strong, yet he doesn't really seem like much of a fighter.

No other Tributes stand out after that, and i'm too horrified to watch the District 12 reaping. It would be like reliving it all over again.

By the time we're done, it's dark outside. Sabrina sends the two of us to our rooms after we say our goodnights.

Tomorrow, we arrive in the Capitol.

 **Reviews are appreciated! :)**


End file.
